Looking out over the East River from my jail
cell, and still running for public office, I realize that I have taken
several actions in my life for which I owe public apologies.

Once, I won a supermarket sweepstakes even though
my second cousin was a box boy in that very store. I would like to
apologize to Safeway Food, Inc., and its employees. I would like to
apologize to my family, who have stood by me, and especially to my wife
Karen. A wiser and more loyal spouse could not be found.

When I was twenty-one, I smoked marijuana every
day for one year. I would like to apologize for the next fifteen years of
anxiety attacks and drug-related phobias, including the feeling that when
Ed Sullivan introduced Wayne and Shuster he was actually signaling my
parents that I was high. I would like to apologize to my wife Karen, who
still believes in me, and to the Marijuana Growers Association of Napa
Valley and its affiliates, for any embarrassment I may have caused.

I would also like to mention a little incident
that took place in the Holiday Inn in Ipsilante, Michigan, during that
same time. As I was lying in bed in Room 342, I began counting the ceiling
tiles. Since the room was square, it was an easy computation, taking no
longer than the weekend. As Sunday evening rolled around, I began to
compute how many imaginary ceiling tiles it would take to cover the
walls and floor of my room. When I checked out of the hotel, I flippantly
told the clerk that it would take twelve hundred and ninety-four imaginary
ceiling tiles to fill the entire room. Two weeks later, while attempting
to break the record for consecutive listenings to "American
Pie," I realized I had included the real tiles in my
calculation of imaginary tiles; I should have subtracted them from my
total. I would like to apologize to the staff of the Holiday Inn for any
inconvenience I may have caused, to the wonderful people at Universal
Ceiling Tile, to my wife Karen, and to my two children, whole growth is
stunted.

Several years ago, In California, I ate my first
clam and said it tasted "like a gonad dipped in motor oil." I
would like to apologize to Bob 'n' Betty's Clam Fiesta, and especially to
Bob, who I found out later had only one testicle. I would like to
apologize to the waitress, June, and her affiliates, and to the DePaul
family dog, who suffered the contents of my nauseated stomach.

There are several incidents of sexual harassment
I would like to apologize for:

In 1992, I was interviewing one Ms. Anna Floyd
for a secretarial position when my pants accidentally fell down around my
ankles as I was saying, "Ever seen one of these before?" Even
though I was referring to my new Pocket Tape Memo Taker, I would like to
apologize to Ms. Floyd for any grief this misunderstanding might have
caused her. I would also like to apologize to the Pocket Tape people and
their affiliates, and to International Hardwood Designs, whose floor my
pants fell upon. I would especially like to apologize to my wife Karen,
whose great understanding fills me with humility.

Once, in Hawaii, I had sex with a hundred-and-two-year-old
male turtle. It is hard to argue that it was consensual. I would like to
apologize to the turtle, his family, the Kahala Hilton Hotel, and the
hundred or so diners who were eating at the Hilton's outdoor café. I
would also like to apologize to my loyal wife Karen, who had to endure the
subsequent news item in the "Also Noted" section of the Santa
Barbara Women's Club Weekly.

In 1987, I attended a bar mitzvah in Manhattan
while wearing white gabardine pants, white patent-leather slippers, a blue
blazer with gold buttons, and a yachting cap. I would like to apologize to
the Jewish people, to the state of Israel, to my family, who have stood by
me, and to my wife, Karen, who has also endured my seventeen affairs and
three out-of-wedlock children. Further, I would like to apologize to the
National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, for referring
to its members as "colored people." My apology would not be
complete if it didn't include my new wife, Nancy, who is of a pinkish tint,
and our two children, who are white-colored.

Finally, I would like to apologize for
spontaneously yelling the word "Savages!" after losing six
thousand dollars on a roulette spin at the Choctaw Nation Casino and
Sports Book. When I was growing up, the meaning of this word in our
household closely approximated the Hawaiian "Aloha," and my use
of it in the casino was meant to express "Until we meet again."